


The Future, I'll See You There

by merae2888



Series: Better Together [6]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 19:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8546662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merae2888/pseuds/merae2888
Summary: Clarke can’t remember the last time she thought of the future as something that could actually happen. It’s always been a vague, abstract concept that Earth wants to pry from her shaking fingers.
OR
Bellamy and Clarke figure out their futures, together.





	

“This is a fire hazard,” Bellamy states grumpily. 

Clarke tends to agree with him but she keeps quiet. Who is she to deny the Glowing forest clan their Winter Moon rituals? She stands off to the side as she watches them light candles, more candles than she’s ever seen, circled around a roaring bonfire that’s blazing so high it’s in danger of lighting the brittle branches of the tallest trees on fire. There’s an altar of sorts and grounders from all the surrounding territories have gathered and brought offerings. Clarke isn’t sure who they are sacrificing what to and she doesn’t want to know. As far as she can tell, nothing as nefarious as a blood sacrifice has happened so she’s not going to object. 

One of the grounder girls, dressed head to toe in leaves that glow purple in the moonlight, guides the fire into shapes of animals that float up and get carried away on the wind. Mostly everyone else is drunk on the maple, apple moonshine Monty threw together. 

Bellamy’s eyes are on the kids huddled around the witch. She’s wearing long glowing robes, and her braids glow where they hang around her tanned neck. It is as if she was made of tissue paper, light shining through her skin everywhere. 

“What do you think she’s telling them?” Clarke asks. Their little faces are rapt with attention, eyes sparkling in the fire and moonlight.

“Ghost stories,” Bellamy suggests.

Clarke tilts her head. “Monster stories.”

“Same thing,” Bellamy whispers and there’s something else there but Clarke isn’t going there. This festival is a celebration for them, something fun and light to commemorate their saving the world again. She’s going to make sure Bellamy has a good time if it’s the last thing she does.

“Legends of their people,” Clarke counters.

Bellamy snorts. He’s such an elitist when it comes to legends. Everyone but the Greeks are amateurs in his eyes. He squints at the old woman and at the kids fascinated with whatever words she’s spinning for them. “Their futures,” Bellamy says, wonderingly.

The witch does have a bowl filled with water in front of her that she keeps peering into, like a mirror or a portal, waving her hands over the rippling, glowing blue surface. No telling what she can see. 

Clarke can’t remember the last time she thought of the future as something that could actually happen. It’s always been a vague, abstract concept that Earth wants to pry from her shaking fingers. But she’s standing beside Bellamy, in a plot of land that is safe and theirs and their people are laughing around them and her fingers don’t tremble anymore. 

She nudges him with her shoulder and he pushes back playfully. “Want her to tell you yours?” she asks. 

Clarke expects some dismissive scoff from Bellamy, some assurance that whatever she’s spouting is hogwash but instead, he breathes in and then out, very slowly. 

When she glances up at him, he’s already looking at her. His eyes trace the slant of her cheekbone and she can feel it like a dragging finger on her skin. The intensity she finds in the set of his jaw, in the gleam of his eyes, in the scrunched skin between his eyebrows: it’s all a little much.

But she meets his gaze and it’s like a magnet holding her steady. 

“I don’t need her to.”

Bellamy says it like it’s always been true and maybe it has. He leans down, still a little hesitant ‘cause she’s smiling but she hasn’t said anything so she pushes up on her toes and meets his mouth in a soft, warm kiss. His hands find hers and he entwines their fingers and she’s never been kissed like this, so sweetly and undemanding. She laughs against his lips and he nuzzles his nose into her cheek when she rocks back down to her heels.

When she opens her eyes, Bellamy looks younger, lighter, his jaw unclenched. He looks good, happy. 

So does their future.

**Author's Note:**

> What a girl wants, what a girl needs...is Comments and Kudos!
> 
> (I jest but seriously, it means the world to get feedback!)


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